Finally, his breathing slowed, and he raised his head from the crook of my neck. His hair a mess where my hands had been in it, his face drowsy with orgasm.
“You good?” he asked.
“I’m really good. You?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
Something in his tone felt heartbreaking. Like it had been a long time since he’d been able to say that.
He kissed me softly and then gently withdrew from my body. He disposed of the condom with a Kleenex from the box I kept on the floor of my car while I smoothed down my skirt. My underwear was lost somewhere. I’d have to find it at some point, I thought, as the real world returned with a vengeance. I didn’t want to go.
Reluctantly, I gave Ronan his jacket back. Reluctantly, he took it.
He climbed out of the backseat. I did the same on my side, and he was already there, helping me out. My legs were wobbly and pleasantly loose. My entire body felt as if I’d slept for ten hours straight.
“Always a gentleman.”
“Not always.”
He kissed me deeply, holding me close, letting me know I wasn’t going to get away with business as usual so easily. I sagged into his embrace, reveling in the feel of him. His mouth—God, his mouth—and the strong solidity of him that made me feel so safe. When Ronan kissed me, I couldn’t imagine anything could hurt me.
“Would you mind driving?” I asked. “I don’t trust my legs to work properly right now.”
He almost grinned. “I’ll drive.”
The journey back to Santa Cruz went by in a night-darkened blur outside my window. I stole glances of Ronan’s profile now and then, his gaze focused on the road in front of him. He had no idea the effect he had just sitting there, his inked forearms too damn sexy as he held the wheel.
He drove to my house and parked in the driveway.
“Wait…how will you get home?”
“I’ll walk,” he said.
I hated that. Hated that he had to try to outlast the nightmares that chased him.
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
In front of the car, he encircled me in his arms but didn’t kiss me. Instead, he studied me by the light of the streetlamp.
“Tomorrow night,” he said. “The Shack.”
I arched a brow. “Are you asking or telling?”
“Telling. I want you there.”
And I knew what he was doing. Making sure I wasn’t going to freak out and ghost him again. His eyes were hard, but beneath, his doubt was the same as mine.
It’s better to be the one who leaves…
He was placing his trust in my hands and asking me not to let it fall, not to throw it away. I had to do the same. Be brave.
“I’ll be there.”
The tension in his body loosened. He kissed me again and then waited as I walked up to my front walk.
Our first date.
I waved to him from the porch. He didn’t wave back but nodded his head as I slipped inside. I slumped against the door and let out a shaky breath.
“So that happened.”
Quietly, so as not to wake Bibi, I crept to the hall bathroom—my bathroom—and started the shower. I stripped down while hot water ran, steam filling the room. My reflection in the mirror, naked, was the same as yesterday, but I felt different. More than the night I lost my virginity. My smile was softer. My eyes lit up. My skin seeming to vibrate under the surface everywhere Ronan had touched me. I didn’t want to wash him off me.
“Silly,” I murmured as I stepped into the shower.
But it didn’t feel silly. It felt like falling.
Part III
Chapter Twenty-Two
May
“Well, gentlemen.” Holden stretched like a cat. “What kind of trouble shall we get into tonight?”
I squeezed the bottle of lighter fluid. A stream arced into the bonfire, making it roar.
“Arson,” Holden mused. “An interesting option. We haven’t tried that one, but I’m game. Stratton?”
Miller strummed his guitar and sang, “All my friends are heathens, take it slow…”
“Indeed,” Holden said. “I am the psychopath sitting next to you. Or is that Wentz?”
I smirked. “You’re in a good mood.”
“Is that allowed? Or do the Lost Boys have to be tragic and lost every minute of every day?”
I exchanged amused glances with Miller, but inwardly, I was glad. Lately, Holden had been sticking to beer instead of vodka, and the smile plastered to his face wouldn’t quit. I guessed things were going good between him and River Whitmore, though I wondered if it would last.
And if I’d have to kick Whitmore’s ass if it didn’t.
Miller smiled a lot more too. Violet wasn’t here that afternoon; it was just us, but she and Shiloh were regulars now. Holden never brought River who was barricaded in the closet behind his King of the Jocks rep, so the five of us hung out most nights, laughing, talking, and listening to Miller play.
He strummed a few more bars of “Heathens.”
“Who is that again?” I asked.
“Twenty-One Pilots. It was on the Suicide Squad soundtrack. I think it’s our theme song.”
“I prefer Suicide Squad to the Lost Boys,” Holden said. “Would I not make an exceptional Joker?”
He tugged on the lapels of his expensive winter coat. The weather was growing warmer by the day, but he was still bundled up. I guessed that meant things with River weren’t perfect. But what was ever perfect? They hid their relationship at school, same as Shiloh and me.
Shiloh and me…
It’d been weeks and that phrase wasn’t close to getting old. I hid a smile behind my beer so the others wouldn’t see it and give me shit.
Holden settled into his chair with a satisfied sigh as the sun began to dip below the horizon. “This, gentlemen, is a rare moment of tranquility.” He looked to Miller. “You’re on the cusp of stardom and—even more miraculous—Wentz, here, hasn’t been suspended in more than a month…”
They both applauded, and Miller whistled through his teeth.
I chuckled. Assholes.
“And for the time being, I’m…what’s the word?” Holden snapped his fingers, pretending to think. “Starts with an H?”
“Heathen,” Miller put in and strummed a few chords.
“Yes, but that other, more elusive H word.”
“Happy,” I muttered into my beer bottle. The word tasted foreign to me too, but for the first time in a long time, it was starting to fit.
“Bingo.” Holden beamed, but I saw how fragile his happiness was in his eyes. Whitmore still had plans to go away to college and play football, leaving Holden behind.
But things are good now. They might stay good.
Like they were with Shiloh and me.
I felt like shit keeping us on the downlow at school when I wanted to show her off. Kiss her in front of God and everybody, claiming her as mine. But she was okay with the secrecy for different reasons. Trying to keep her shields up. I couldn’t blame her; she’d been burned hard, but day by day, she was letting them go. For me.
I felt richer than Holden.